An Ubercharged Friendship
by annoyingfan1224
Summary: My first fanfic. Takes place before Meet The Medic, but after the part at the end with Scout . Heavy used to be afraid of doctors, but when he does something he doesn't expect himself to do, he turns to a certain Medic for help.
1. Chapter 1

An Ubercharged Friendship

A TF2 Fanfiction by Renn Cameron

The red, dust-covered building basked in the heat of the low sun. All was quiet in the base, aside from the faint sound of whistling coming from the barracks. The Heavy Weapons Guy of Reliable Excavation and Demolition (RED for short) sat in his bunker, polishing his beloved minigun and whistling all the while. Heavy cared for his minigun as if it were a sentient being; feeding it, cleaning it, putting it to bed. He even went as far as to give it a human name: Sascha.

As soon as he was finished, Heavy gently set Sascha on the bed and sat down next to her. He loved his minigun more than anything in the world, and wouldn't let anyone else near her. He recalled seeing an enemy spy sneaking into the base and how he accidentally brushed up against Sascha's barrel. That spy didn't live long, but he didn't stay dead long, either, thanks to the respawn system. Heavy would have to make sure he stayed dead if such a thing happened again.

A series of knocks came from the other side of the bunker door. Heavy carried Sascha with him toward the knocking, preparing for the worst. Thankfully, it was the familiar hard-hat and overalls of the RED Engineer that greeted him.

"Evenin', Heavy," he said in his thick southern drawl, "I hope I'm not interruptin' anything."

"Nyet," Heavy responded in his strong Russian accent, "I was just cleaning Sascha."

"Uh…," uttered Engineer, who couldn't exactly think of a response, "Well, she certainly looks clean."

"Yes, she is," confirmed Heavy, "What is wrong?"

"Nothin's wrong," the Texan reassured, "We just need to talk."

"Okay," Heavy agreed, and pulled up a chair for Engineer to sit down while he sat down on the bed, still cradling Sascha.

"Heavy," Engineer began, "You know that everyone has to have the Uber technology implanted in `em today, right?" Heavy nodded. The Uber technology would heal the team faster during battles, as well as make them invincible for a short period of time. Heavy knew all of this. He was one of the few people that read the entire contract instead of stopping after "use of explosives and military arms."

"Well," Engineer continued, "Everyone else is good to go, including myself. You're the only one left. The last one." Heavy understood that; he knew how to use deductive reasoning.

"But," Engineer went on, "you weren't always the last one. In fact, they called you to the operating room first. But you said you had some business to take care of, so they skipped you. And every time they called you after that, you didn't come. And now you're here. Shut up in your room." Engineer's tone started getting serious. Heavy drummed his fingers on Sascha nervously. Engineer is catching on, he thought.

"So, riddle me this, partner," Engineer said with a tone colder than Teufort in the winter, "Why are you avoiding the Medic?" Heavy sighed deeply. There wasn't a point in hiding it anymore.

"I do not like doctors," Heavy finally said, shamefully.

"You mean you're afraid," Engineer asked, wanting an explanation.

"Doctors hurt little Heavy," he explained in the third-person, "They poke him, stab him with sharp needles, touch his chest with cold metal thing." Engineer finally understood. Heavy was suffering from previous, doctor-related trauma.

"Listen, there's nothing to be afraid of," Engineer said, trying to be reassuring, "This doctor'll take great care of you." Engineer could tell Heavy was still nervous, however.

"Come on," he offered, gesturing toward the hallway of the barracks, "let me show you something." Heavy hesitated, then stood and reluctantly followed Engineer to the medical bay, tightly holding onto Sascha all the way.


	2. Chapter 2

The two mercenaries were welcomed to the medical bay's waiting area by the sight of the teammates, who were drinking, standing at attention, reading a magazine while playing with a lighter, or just sitting there with no visible emotion whatsoever. Engineer gestured toward a chair near the doors of the operating room and Heavy sat down, till holding Sascha.

"Why is team still here," he asked, remembering that everyone else already had the Uber implant.

"We're waiting for the Scout, lad," the Demoman answered, taking a swig from a bottle of his favorite whiskey.

"One of the doc's birds got stuck in his chest cavity," explained the Sniper.

"You really should've seen it," chuckled Engineer, "Poor boy was coughing up feathers everywhere." Heavy couldn't help but laugh at the thought of tiny feathers flying out of Scout's mouth. Suddenly, Heavy thought he could hear voices coming from behind the OR doors. Listening closely, Heavy heard a conversation between two voices; one very familiar, and one not so familiar.

"I said this before," said the unfamiliar voice, "but I will say it again out of kindness. I truly apologize for the inconvenience." Heavy noticed that the voice sounded significantly German. Could that be the Medic, he thought.

"Don't worry about it, Doc," said the voice which Heavy recognized as Scout, "It's no problem at all. I've had worse happen." With that, Scout pushed through the OR doors with a confident look on his face, as the rest of the team looked up at him as if they were waiting for some witty remark.

"Fellas," the young Bostonian proclaimed, "I am proud to announce that I am now pigeon-free!" The other mercenaries cheered and applauded for the baseball enthusiast, just because they felt like it. It was then Scout noticed Heavy, still sitting in his chair with a nervous look on his face.

"Hey, there you are, pally," Scout said, getting Heavy's attention, "Haven't seen you all day! Where you been, man?"

"H-Hiding," Heavy said in a frightened tone, hugging Sascha tightly. Confused, Scout turned to Engineer, who explained that Heavy was nervous about seeing the Medic, and he was trying to help him be less afraid. Scout decided to help as well, as he always thought of Heavy as the bodyguard he never had.

"Listen, brother," Scout told him, "I've been under the doc's knife twice, TWICE! But both times he knew what he was doing, and that's why you shouldn't be afraid. This guy wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone a big schmuck like you." Heavy glared at Scout for calling him a schmuck, but Scout punched him in the shoulder to assure he was joking. Heavy looked at Engineer, who gave him the "I-told-you-so" look.

"Better get going," Engineer said, gesturing to the OR. Heavy decided that Scout and Engineer were right. With Sascha in his hands, Heavy stood and pushed through the double doors leading to the OR. However, Engineer couldn't help but feel like Heavy had an escape plan ready to put into action. Standing next to the Soldier, he whispered something the rest of the team couldn't hear.

"Men," Soldier barked after Engineer had finished whispering, "Ready your weapons! We're going into battle!'


	3. Chapter 3

Heavy looked around the foul-smelling operating room. The sight of scalpels and syringes made him shiver with fear, as did the blood-stained operating table. This was a bad idea, he thought. It was then that Heavy spotted a small refrigerator in the corner of the room. Curious, Heavy opened the fridge to see if there was some food to help calm him down.

"Ah! Hello there," greeted the severed Spy head when Heavy opened the fridge door, "Listen, I could use your help. That is a very big gun you have there. If you would be so kind as to aim it at me and pull the trig-." The Spy was cut off by Heavy slamming the refrigerator door shut.

"So," the Spy said, "is that a no?"

The seven mercenaries stood with their backs against the OR doors.

"Brace your selves," Engineer told them, "There's no telling what he might try." But after several minutes of silence, some of them doubted anything was going to happen. That thought was quickly forgotten, as loud, banging noises came from the other side of the double-doors. The men tried their best to keep them closed.

"Stand your ground," Soldier shouted at the top of his lungs, "I repeat: Stand your ground!"

Heavy banged on the doors with all his strength.

"Let me out," he shouted multiple times. After seeing the Spy's head, still alive, in the refrigerator, he wanted out, badly. But after banging on the OR doors for what seemed like hours, he had nearly given up hope. That's when Heavy noticed Sascha on the ground next to the refrigerator. Maybe he could use her to bust the door down. Taking Sascha in both hands, Heavy ran towards the door, shouting what sounded like a Russian battle-cry, and thrust Sascha into the doors. CRACK!

After several minutes of holding the door shut, the team began to tire. Finally, after one particularly loud bang, all was silent.

"What happened," asked Scout, confused about the sudden quiet, "Why'd he stop?"

"Maybe the Medic stabbed him in the back and injected him with morphine," suggested the RED Spy, "That's what I would've done." Suddenly, the mercenaries' ears were filled with the familiar sound of the Administrator's voice.

"Mission begins in 60 seconds," she announced.

"But we can't go yet," protested Scout, "Heavy and Medic are still in there."

"There's no time," shouted Engineer, "Come on!" The team ran out of the waiting room without another word.

Heavy looked down at Sascha on the floor with a look of both terror and regret on his face. He was still holding her main handle, the rest of her still on the ground. He had broken her. He had hurt his best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. With the little energy he had left, Heavy sank to his knees, took Sascha in his hands, hugged her as tightly as he could, and cried.


	4. Chapter 4

"How many times must I tell you," the German doctor said to the small pigeon on the desk, "Stay out of the patients' organs!" The bird tilted its head in confusion and Medic sighed in frustration. He loved Archimedes with all his heart, but sometimes he just drove him nuts. Medic was thankful that Scout understood the situation. Suddenly, Medic felt soft pecks on his hand and looked down to see Archimedes pecking him lovingly.

"Ah,_ mein pet_, he said, stroking the bird's head, "I just don't want you to get hurt, you see." Archimedes looked up at him. He understood that part.

"Well," Medic said, standing up, "time to do the last Uber implant.' Straightening his vest, Medic walked from his office to the operating room, where he came across a strange sight. A large man was sitting near the doors to the waiting room, cradling a minigun and bawling his eyes out.

"What in the world," Medic whispered to himself, obviously confused. Then, he noticed the large handle lying next to the weeping man. It must have broken off earlier. Medic thought for a few minutes, and then came up with an idea to cheer up the poor guy.

"Um, excuse me." Medic called to Heavy. Heavy turned his head and saw the Medic standing in the back of the room. Medic walked toward Heavy and kneeled down in front of him.

"Hello," Medic said cheerfully, "You must be the Heavy Weapons guy. I am the Medic.' Medic extended his hand, expecting a handshake, while Heavy just looked at it, tears still in his eyes.

"Well then," Medic continued, lowering his hand, "It appears that you have broken the handle off of your gun." Heavy nodded, crying a little less than before.

"My condolences," Medic went on, "Breaking a weapon is no fun at all. Luckily, I have a proposition for you."

"I am listening," Heavy finally said, tears gone from his face.

"I know a lot about weapons, comrade," Medic told him, "so I can fix this gun. But that's not all. I can also make it stronger than it was before so this doesn't happen again. So, how about it?" Heavy didn't exactly trust Medic, but he really wanted Sascha to be whole again. Reluctantly, heavy handed Sascha and her handle to Medic, cringing as she was touched by foreign hands.

"Don't worry," Medic reassured, "I will be gentle." Heavy watched as Medic carried Sascha to the operating table and set her down.

"This shouldn't take long," announced Medic, and he began working. Heavy struggled to keep his eyes open during Sascha's "operation." A cacophony of unpleasant banging, clanging, and scratching came from the middle of the OR. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the sounds finally ceased.

"There. All done," proclaimed Medic, Heavy slowly opened his eyes, preparing for the worst. When he eventually looked, he saw… Sascha, lying on the operating table with her handle reattached. Good as new. Heavy stood up and walked toward Medic, stopping directly in front of him. "Um," started Medic, intimidated by the large man in front of him, "If it's not perfect, I could buff out some dents and scratches for you. It's really no prob-." Medic was interrupted by Heavy picking him up and embracing him in a bear hug, laughing heartily.

"Doctor is very good," he shouted. Medic couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"_Ja. Danke_," Medic thanked him, "Oh! I almost forgot about the Uber implant! Are you ready?"

"Da," Heavy said as he lay down on the operating table after Medic moved Sascha from it and onto a nearby gurney.

"Excellent," said Medic as he positioned the Medi-Gun over Heavy. Then, taking a scalpel from his tray of tools, he began to cut into the Russian's chest.

"Now then," said Medic as he removed Heavy's top layer of flesh, "Let me tell you a story about a missing skeleton."


End file.
